The Cleverest Witch
by AndIForTruth
Summary: Hermione returns to Hogwarts the year after the battle and has high hopes for this term. But what exactly is wrong with Hogwarts, and why is it no longer the castle she knows and loves? Canon noncompliant. No romance, but lots of flirtation.
1. Strange Beginnings

Chapter One

Hermione woke with a start, sitting straight up in her bed breathing heavily. As her eyes flew open she rapidly took in the familiar red curtains hanging around her bed and the soft snores of the other girls.

 _You're at Hogwarts, you're home, you're safe_ , she thought to herself, breathing slowing down. She fell back onto the bed with a sigh, exasperated with herself.

Not all was well following the battle. Yes, Voldemort was dead, but they had lost so much in the process. Hermione was dealing well with the occasional nightmares and anxiety, but at times she still woke up sweating with the screams of her friends fading from her ears. This appeared to be one of those mornings.

She grabbed her wand from the headboard and cast a quick _Tempus_ charm. It showed an early six o'clock, which was too late to go back to sleep but far too early to head down to the great hall for breakfast. She decided to go ahead and shower and get ready for the day before the other girls woke up.

Hermione snatched her clothes and toiletries from the dresser and padded softly down the stone stairs to enter the bathroom. As she stripped down and waited for the shower to warm she wondered how this particular school year might go.

Godric only knows how Dumbledore had survived the fall from the tower sixth year, but Hermione would bet her magic that Snape had something to do with it. Just another act to add to the list of evidence that the late Potions Master hadn't had a heart of stone after all. Dumbledore had lain in a magically-induced coma at St. Mungo's for a year, conveniently awakening three days after Voldemort's defeat. Unsurprisingly he named himself 'retired' and now lived in a merry little cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. McGonagall made a perfectly fine headmistress, and that was that, he said.

Her friends had turned out okay too, she reflected as she stepped into the hot stream of water and sighed. The three really had fared well all things considered. Ever the Boy Who Lived, Harry had opted out of coming back to Hogwarts and went straight into Auror training, despite the fact that he had no NEWTs of which to speak. _Bastard_ , she thought. Ron had joined her at Hogwarts to complete his studies but worked part-time helping George out at Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

And her? Well, she was Hermione after all and looked forward to the rigorous coursework this year would bring. McGonagall had offered her Head Girl, but after the past year, she had changed mightily. She no longer had her heart set on what she now considered a little girl's dream. She didn't need the extra duties anyhow.

Hermione turned off the water and reluctantly dried and dressed. Heading back up the stairs she heard the footsteps and rustling around that characterized an early first day back.

"Good MORNING HERMIONE!" Parvati yelled at her, turning away from her mirror. "Got an early start, yeah?"

Hermione laughed. "I did, Parvati! What on earth has you so excited this morning? I thought you didn't make a sound until after at _least_ ten o clock," she replied.

"It just so happens that I'm actually excited to start this year at Hogwarts. You know McGonagall won't be strict on us, we saved the wizarding world! We can do whatever we want." Parvati turned back to her mirror and continued braiding her hair. "Especially since the 'eighth years,' as they're calling us, have free rein to visit Hogsmeade anytime we please."

"Within reason!" Hermione added. Parvati responded with a sly grin in the mirror.

After they finished getting ready Hermione and Parvati headed down to the common room. Hermione saw Neville posted up against the fireplace talking with Ron, who looked up and saw them.

"Hey! Hermione! Did you see Harry's last letter? Seems like training is taking a lot out of him." Ron said as he walked over, leaving Neville. Neville frowned at him.

"I did, yeah. Six trips to St. Mungo's in two weeks? He's pushing it." Hermione replied. Talking to Ron always threw her a little. They had kissed during the battle. She thought that might lead to something at the time, but they both decided later they were better off as friends. She didn't think she'd be happy with Ron but wasn't quite sure why. He'd acted immaturely in a lot of ways during the past year, and she wasn't too happy with him. There was still some lingering awkwardness for her despite the time that had passed. "We're headed down to eat." Hermione looked pointedly behind Ron and smiled at Neville. "Care to join me us?"

Neville stepped forward, grinning. "Lead the way ladies," he said, waving his arm dramatically in front of him. The girls giggled and the portrait swung open to let them out.

 **...**

Hermione looked over her class schedule happily when Parvati snatched it out of her hands.

"Gods above! Can this be real? The Hermione Granger herself doesn't have a full class load this year!" Parvati climbed up onto the bench and took a deep breath, ready to announce this news to the entire Hall. Hermione blinked at her before grabbing her arms and yanking Parvati back down.

"Are you trying to call any more attention to me than there already is? Yes, I thought I deserved a break this year. I'm taking Charms, Potions, Ancient Runes and Transfigurations. But I'm assisting Poppy on the side for some healer training. So I won't be bored. Are you satisfied?" Hermione hissed, glaring at her.

Parvati blinked owlishly at her before bursting into laughter, which she found herself giggling along to. Parvati moved over to the Ravenclaw table to talk to Padma and Hermione scanned the hall to see who all had returned.

She knew almost everyone in Gryffindor that had returned. She saw Ginny berating Neville about something at the end of the table. Luna was here, of course. Few Slytherins had returned. A number of them had either been sentenced to Azkaban or had a parent locked up. But she saw Theodore Nott and –

Her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Malfoy taking a sip of his drink. His eyes bore into hers above the cup as he raised one eyebrow inquiringly. Hermione averted her gaze and turned back to the table. How he could fit such a condescending look into a singular eyebrow, she didn't know. She had heard rumors that Malfoy would be returning this year but still found herself surprised. His dad had been shipped off to Azkaban almost as soon as Voldemort hit the ground. No amount of throwing the Malfoy fortune around could justify the acts he'd committed. But Narcissa and Malfoy – _Draco_ , she corrected herself – had gotten off easy. Narcissa never seemed fully committed to the cause and Draco had only been sixteen when it all started. They were closely monitored, but that was all. The hero of the wizarding world testifying on their behalf probably had something to do with it.

Parvati was back. "D'ya know the new Defence professor is the oldest Weasley brother, Hermione?"

Hermione choked on her toast. Parvati began enthusiastically pounding her back until Hermione waved to her that she was alive and breathing normally. "No? I most certainly did not know that. Ron failed to mention that Bill would be here." She scanned the professors at the front of the hall eating their breakfast and failed to see him. "What about Fleur?"

Parvati leaned in, eager to gossip about the young professor. "Padma says that she left him after the war ended because they just weren't working out. What sane woman wouldn't want a man like that who has animalistic tendencies, especially in bed?" She grinned and ducked away, narrowly missed Hermione's hand raised to thump her in the forehead.

Despite her mild disapproval, Hermione had to agree. She laughed and replied, "Fleur did always have a flair for the dramatic, after all. Bill should know plenty about defence, having been a curse breaker for some-odd years. As to the bedroom… I'll let you handle that line of thinking."

…

The first part of the day was unremarkable but pleasant. In Charms and Transfigurations, they'd reviewed material from sixth year curriculum, so the only class in which she'd gone over something new was Ancient Runes. She decided that would likely become her favorite class. There was something about the fundamental language of magic that enthralled her.

Hermione now made her way to the hospital wing to see if Madam Pomfrey wanted her to do anything before her first lesson on Friday. She pushed open the great doors to the wing and looked around for the healer.

"Ms. Granger, is that you?" a voice said from behind a partition near the end of the hall. Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out and smiled when she saw Hermione.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey! I thought I'd stop by and see if I needed to do any preparation for my lesson this Friday," Hermione replied.

The matron hustled over to her, "Certainly, dear, let me go show you around so you get acquainted with the area. Follow me." She led Hermione through a door over to the side through which Hermione had always assumed to be Madam Pomfrey's personal office. They walked into a short hallway and entered a door to the left.

Hermione gasped at the collection the room held. There were rows upon rows of shelves - not unlike a library - which held more potions and powders than she had ever been witness to. There was a counter to her left that held a sink and many tools that Hermione thought were for preparing various medicines and brewing potions. It was clear the room was separated into ingredients and already prepared potions. Everything was meticulously labeled and organized alphabetically, true to the matron's finicky personality.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey sighed, her stout body shifting with the motion, "here is the medicine closet. Across the hall are my personal quarters, which you shouldn't have a need to go into, but if you require me and cannot find me I'm likely in there. In here are all the potions and ingredients that go into them. Professor Slughorn does most of the very difficult potions, but we do everything routine in-house, so to speak. I want you to familiarize yourself with the shelving so that you aren't running about on Friday, but then you can leave. Just shut the door behind you." And with that she turned about and left, leaving Hermione before she could say a word.

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey. No, I don't have any questions," she mumbled to the empty room. Though intimidated by the sheer size of the collection, Hermione's curiosity won out and she soon began perusing the shelves, trying her best to commit the general location of everything to memory. There seemed to be far more than needed for day to day illnesses, and Hermione wondered if Madam Pomfrey's collection might rival that of the Potions Master himself. From bat's wing to salamander blood to the deadly nightshade, which Hermione couldn't think of a beneficial use for no matter how she wracked her brain. Perhaps she just wanted to be prepared for any need, she concluded.

After familiarizing herself with the ingredients and looking at the work station Hermione slipped out of the room and decided to work on homework in the library. She spotted Luna sitting at a table alone, reading a Quibbler magazine upside down. Today the dotty girl sported blue lipstick and a necklace made entirely out of what appeared to be a variety of fresh fruit. Hiding a smirk, she sat down in front of Luna and got out a scroll and a textbook from her bag.

"Your necklace looks quite yummy," Hermione commented.

Luna didn't even glance at her as she replied airily, "It helps me concentrate. Did you know fresh ingredients have more magical properties? And I like the smell. I like to smell fruity."

"I didn't, but I will remember that in the future. How have you been?'

"I'm alright I think. Hard to tell at times. I'm quite enamored with the new Defence Professor, have you had him yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm not in Defence this year, I've cut back on my classes a bit. But you've met Bill before, so why are you so enamored now?"

"I have, but I didn't realize he'd be such a good teacher. He's quite fit, too."

She had to chuckle at Luna's characteristic way of bypassing all niceties and getting straight to the point. "Yes, I suppose he is that, too." She then turned to her schoolwork and left Luna to her reading. She wrote quietly for a few minutes without interruption, when Luna disturbed her train of thought over a particularly challenging Runes problem.

"It's good that he's here also. With his background, he can likely help Hogwarts." Luna stated, as though Hermione had the slightest idea what she meant.

"Er… care to elaborate?"

"The castle. It's feeling down." Luna explained.

"Um, right. Yes." Hermione replied, unsure how to respond. She usually got on with Luna quite well, but it would appear there will still some aspects of the strange girl that escaped her. After that puzzling statement, they continued on reading and working silently well into the late afternoon.

…

After a dinner at which Ginny had begged her to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, Hermione headed up to the common room. Ginny wanted to go buy a new outfit for a date she was going on next weekend, though she wouldn't say who with. Hermione agreed, deciding that she would need some time out with friends after the first week of school and getting settled into her routine.

As she was climbing the grand staircase the stairs began moving underneath her and she reached out and grabbed the banister to steady herself as she was transported around. Mid-turn, the staircase stopped.

Hermione furrowed her brow and looked at the stairs in front of her and behind, wondering if someone had used magic or force to stop it. There was no one. She slowly stood up straight.

She stepped up a few steps, and then down a few steps.

She whipped out her wand and gently tapped it on the banister.

"Er, could you keep moving please?" Hermione pleaded out loud. The staircase ignored her, stubbornly remaining between two landings. After thinking for a few moments, she decided the best way to get to the floor she wanted would be magic, instead of relying on her not-so-astute physical abilities. She flicked her wand, saying " _Levioso momento_ " and floated gently over to the landing she desired. She turned and examined the flight of stairs for anything hidden that might tell her why it had stopped but could find nothing.

After a moment or two, she turned and went to the Gryffindor tower, thinking furiously all the way what had happened to the staircase. Perhaps it had evolved to play more games in the lives of students trying to reach their destinations, or maybe the castle was upset with her for some reason. _Now I'm turning into Luna_ , she thought to herself.

She, Parvati, and Ginny talked about their classes, and Hermione shared the mammoth collection Madam Pomfrey had. Ginny rolled her eyes and mimed throwing up when Parvati started gushing about Professor Weasley and. As the night wore on they went their separate ways.

Hermione got ready for bed and pulled her covers up to her chest. She thought this year would be interesting indeed. She closed her eyes and hoped last night's nightmares wouldn't visit again.


	2. Tomes and Scrolls

**Chapter Two – Tomes and Scrolls**

 **A/N: friendly reminder that JKR owns everything and I am but a worm.**

…

Ginny and Hermione were getting ready for their trip to Hogsmeade in Hermione's room the following Saturday morning. Well, Ginny was getting ready. Hermione, fully dressed, was sitting on her bed watching Ginny apply a few touches of makeup to her face. Hermione chose this opportunity to inquire to Ginny about her upcoming date and adopted an expression of great innocence.

"Ginny."

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Do you feel like telling me who this mysterious date is with?"

Ginny rolled her eyes as she applied a sweep of powder over her forehead. "I don't. I will tell you if it goes well, but I'm afraid of your reaction and I want to remain open-minded."

Hermione thought about this for a moment and decided to let Ginny have her secret for now. The mystery man must not be someone she knew well if Ginny was so reluctant to share his identity. Perhaps he was even someone their friends disliked? "I suppose that's fair. Are you nearly ready? Hogsmeade will be shut down by the time we get there at this rate."

Ginny tied her long hair back in a ponytail and grabbed her bag. "Let's go!"

And off they went.

…

Ginny disappeared underneath a mountain of clothes within moments of their arrival to the shop and vanished into the dressing room. The first outfit she came out in was a simple flowing shirt over black pants, which Ginny dismissed on the grounds that it was too plain. The second outfit was also dismissed at Hermione's insistence due to it having far too much sparkle. They went through several outfits like this, with Ginny finally deciding on a "simple, but not TOO simple" light blue dress. It complimented her skin tone nicely and flowed loosely down past her mid-thigh. Hermione was privately proud of Ginny for stepping out of her tomboy comfort zone.

After finding an outfit they parted ways and agreed to meet up later to return. Ginny wanted to visit Spintwitches Sporting Needs to check out a newly-minted broom polish and Hermione wanted to see if Tomes and Scrolls had anything new (to her, at least) that was begging to be read.

She pushed open the door to the bookstore and smiled to herself as she took in the comforting sight of rows and rows of books. Inhaling deeply, she decided there was no smell in the world like the smell of an old book. It just could not be brewed. The store was deceptively musty-looking, as she knew the owner, Mr. Pince, updated his inventory quite regularly. She headed immediately to her favorite section – the classics, wizard and muggle alike. It was one of the reasons she preferred this store over others in the wizarding world. Mr. Pince was an equal opportunity reader. She whipped around the corner so fast she ran into the solid back of the person standing in the aisle and fell down in a tangle of limbs.

"What in the bloody hell was that –" Draco Malfoy stopped speaking and slammed his mouth shut with an audible click. "Granger." He inclined his head politely.

Hermione was embarrassed for her excitement at first but quickly became incensed upon seeing who she knocked down. "Really, Malfoy? Maybe if you didn't stand in the middle of the aisle like you owned the place I wouldn't have run into you." Draco's jaw clenched and then he shut his eyes. He took a deep breath before replying.

"I don't actually believe it was in any way my fault but I will choose to ignore that statement for now. Do you think we could get up?" One corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk as he looked at her cheekily. "As much as it would help my public image for people to think I'm involved with one of the golden trio, I'm not much of an exhibitionist."

Hermione glared at him until she realized she was lying on top of him on the ground, with her hands planted beside his head in an attempt to catch her fall. Blushing, she scrambled to her feet, pointedly ignoring the feminine part of her brain which noticed that Draco seemed to be quite fit. He sprang to his feet lithely and brushed off some nonexistent dust from his robe. "Much appreciated," he said, "Granger, could you stop staring at me? I know the face is a beauty but it's weird."

She looked at him inquisitively. "What are you doing in here?"

"I would think that would be obvious. I happen to like to read."

She eyed the book he had dropped when they collided and picked it up. "Heart of Darkness? Is this your normal reading? Muggle novels?"

Draco stared back at her a moment, then looked away. Softly, he said, "I thought it looked interesting. Isn't that why you pick books?"

"Well, yes. But –"

"But what, Granger? You think because I acted a prat before the Dark Lord tore my family apart that I'd be unable to acknowledge that muggles have some good books?" He seemed angry, now.

"Well, yes." She repeated. "But," she faltered, but carried on, "I'm glad to see that I'm wrong." There. She had extended an olive branch of sorts. Harry had found him worthy of saving, so she could be civil, at least.

Draco opened his mouth and shut it again. He grabbed the book from her hands and proceeded to the counter at the back of the store. Hermione pretended to browse the shelf but continued to observe Draco.

To her surprise, there appeared to be a small book display set up behind the counter, behind which Mr. Pince stood precariously on a ladder, dusting shelves with a feather duster by hand. Mr. Pince was notorious for insisting that books lasted best when as little magic was used on them as possible. If there was any claim to that, Hermione didn't know. She privately thought he just liked the work of it.

"Good afternoon, I'll be with you in a moment," he said to the shelf before turning his head and seeing Draco standing there. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy. What'll it be today?"

"Just the one, Rufus," Draco replied cheekily.

Mr. Pince laughed as he stepped down to the counter. "Terrible first name, isn't it? I'll never pass it on. Here you go. Enjoy."

Draco didn't look her way as he exited. Hermione crept up to the counter with her own selection in hand. Mr. Pince – Rufus, she supposed – didn't look up at her as he extended the greeting again. She cleared her throat gently.

"Oh! My dear girl, I've just the thing for you."

"How are you today, sir?" Hermione asked, nervously watching the older wizard step up the rickety ladder to retrieve a book from the display.

"Oh, never mind that. Here you go." He handed Hermione a book from the display and smiled at her, clutching the duster in his hands. Mr. Pince looked at her expectedly as she inspected the book. To Hermione's great shock it appeared to be a new edition of Hogwarts: A History. She quickly flipped to the front page, noting that several authors had contributed to it this time around and it apparently contained new and improved sources.

"When was this published, sir?" _And why didn't I know about it_ , she scolded herself.

"Why, just last week Miss Granger. It was kept very hushed on account of the war being over so recently, so don't you worry yourself about not being aware of it. I see that wrinkle in your brow. After the battle, some greats got together and decided to update it and add in Hogwarts' role in the Wizarding Wars. As I'm sure you know it was published in – "

"- In 1965." Hermione finished his sentence. "So it's been quite some time and new knowledge may have been discovered. I'll take one!" It was like Christmas had come early.

…

Hermione returned to school with Ginny. After they parted ways, she promptly sought out a corner in the library which she believed to be known only to herself. She had discovered it during her second year and it was quite the trek to the back of the library, but the privacy was well worth it.

Settling down in a high-backed lounging chair she had conjured for just this purpose, she flicked her wand to set alight the candelabra, cracked open her newest book, and began to read.

Hours later, Hermione was jolted from her book by the sputtering of the candles, burned down to almost nothing in the time she had been there. She rolled her neck around to work out the sore muscles. There were only about 50 pages left in the book and the differences between the first and second editions surprised her. One of the chapters focused on the damage to Hogwarts during the Second Wizarding War and mentioned that over the centuries Hogwarts had regenerated parts of itself when it felt the need. Hermione thought that made sense, as any castle with rooms that rearrange themselves and stairs that move on their own could rebuild itself, if only partially. The author of this section included an endnote referencing a text that Hermione dearly hoped was in the library, called When Your Building Comes Alive. She was quite curious about the magic Hogwarts naturally possessed.

" _Lumos_!" she muttered as she crept through the library quietly. She suspected she had missed dinner if her growling stomach was any hint. Madam Pince had often let Hermione off easy as she had a tendency to stay after hours, but Hermione wasn't taking any chances. She went first to the restricted section but had no luck. Plenty of interesting books there but not the one she was searching for.

After looking through where the original Hogwarts: A History was found in the library she found the book. Gleefully, Hermione hefted the thick tome out of its space. As she turned around to place it on a desk she saw a glimmer of something on the back of the shelf. She put the book down and placed her wand closer to the shelf for better lighting. There appeared to be a very small, very ratty-looking booklet wedged at the back of the bookcase. Hermione had to stand on her toes and her fingertips barely brushed it.

She huffed a puff of air out that unsettled her bangs as it passed. "Okay, are you a witch or aren't you?" With a wave of her wand, she summoned the book, " _Accio_ , booklet!" It zoomed into her hands. She used the sleeve of her robe to rub off the dust. Running her fingers over the shining gold script which covered it, she whispered, "The Raising of Hogwarts. By… Arnick Gringort? I've never heard of him." It was late and she should go to bed... but surely just a few chapters couldn't hurt?

…

' _Hogwarts is a unique castle, the likes of which have never been created in the Wizarding World. It has always been intended as the greatest magical building of its kind and impenetrable to all outsiders. Hogwarts' main purpose is to serve as a safe harbor for wizardkind. You may think these two opposites, but they go hand in hand. For how can a place provide an atmosphere for tutelage without ensuring the safety of its inhabitants? As such, it is a complex castle and ended up, quite unintentionally, with a mind of its own._

 _We began with the four slicing their palms and spilling blood on the ground where the first stone would lay. Blood magic is the most powerful of all magics, and the four wanted to ensure this place was a stronghold for eons to come and held their influence long after they had passed. The first structural step was creating a simple assembly built into the base of the rocks which jut out of the black loch. The founders built their personal studies here and it holds a few classrooms, as well as a small library. This structure would later become the sub-dungeons of the school, which were rendered obsolete as the castle grew in size and complexity, leaving the original quarters behind deep in the ground. We set up wards on this first floor, and every floor that followed. This imbued the castle with the strongest fortifications possible. Anti-apparition jinxes, unplottable charms, muggle-repellant charms, and many other spells were used during this process. It would not do to have some peculiar muggle running off to tell the world of magic, or for pupils to be able to manifest in and out as they pleased. Some of the spells used were created by the four which they refused to divulge. Perhaps some were curses and not spells at all. After the first level was built and plans laid out, the real work commenced.'_

Hermione gasped as her head snapped up from the page. Her mind was working overtime thinking of all the parts of the castle hidden and the knowledge that could be found there. This was just the thing to keep her entertained.

Unexplored crypts of Hogwarts?

Not for long.


	3. Healing Hands

**Chapter Three – Healing Hands**

 **A/N: Hello, hello! Thank you for stopping by! Kind of a short chapter, kind of a filler, my sincerest apologies for both. Enjoy!**

 **P.S. JKR is the writing goddess and all things belong to her**

…

The shimmering blue surface of the potion was taunting her, Hermione decided. This week, Professor Slughorn had assigned the Draught of Peace, despite Hermione's insistence that any capable fifth year should be able to brew it, so it would be child's play for a seventh year. The older wizard had simply smiled at her and replied, "But my dear, don't we all need some peace?"

Naturally, her potion had progressed along quite nicely with no hiccups, as did Malfoy's and Parvati's. Ron's, unsurprisingly, did not, and he was currently scowling into his thick and bubbling green potion. Hermione didn't want her friend to perform poorly, but she couldn't help him his entire life and he needed to stand on his own two feet. She had stopped helping him a while back… well, she had tried to.

"Hermione, could you come take a look at mine? I think something's gone wrong," Ron called to her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning and going to help Ron. "It's supposed to be blue, I know," he added quickly, seeing her impatience.

She quickly glanced over his work table and saw the problem. "You didn't turn the heat down before you added the hellebore, did you?"

Ron pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed. "Right as usual, Hermione. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Ron," she replied, smiling.

After returning to her desk, she conjured a vial, poured her flawless potion into it, and sat it delicately on Slughorn's desk. She gathered her things and left the classroom.

…

Hermione sat on her bed, idly petting Crookshanks as she pondered her plan of action for discovering the hidden parts of the castle. She had plenty of free time, so no issue there. She also didn't think any professor would take issue with her exploring even if it was after curfew. Being a part of the trio that saved the world would do that for you. Hermione thought she should _probably_ wait for the weekend to begin her exploration, as much as she wished she could start tonight. Surely it would be worth the wait.

…

On Friday, Hermione reported to the Hospital Wing, ready for her first real day of work. Madam Pompfrey appeared to be already attending to a patient across the room and was currently bent over examining them. She looked up and beckoned Hermione over. "There you are! Come over here and help me tend to her, it's an excellent learning opportunity, as your just starting out."

When Hermione was at the bed she realized the patient was a young girl, perhaps a second year. She looked wane and sweaty, and a bit intimidated by the mediwitch, brown eyes wide and darting back and forth between Hermione and Madam Pompfrey. Hermione introduced herself and learned the girl's name was Genevieve Marter.

"Right, then," said Madam Pompfrey, clapping her hands together, "I'll start you out with measuring her vitals. Do you know the incantation?"

Hermione nodded and drew her wand out. While waving a figure-eight motion parallel to the girl's body she said, " _Vitalis Mensura_." The path in the air where she had waved her wand now lit up, like a neon infinity sign. It blinked a forest green and faded to nothing, and repeated this twice more. The final time it lit up, it showed a light blue color instead of the healthy green. "Okay, so the first blink indicates, blood pressure is within Genevieve's normal range, as is her heart rate and respiration. The light blue indicates she is a bit dehydrated, but nothing too serious for her or it would've been a darker blue." Hermione liked that about magical healing – the spells revealed whether the vitals were in a normal range for the patient, not like the muggle world, where doctors used the population's normal as a measurement.

"You're right on the dot, dear, though I'm not at all surprised. Miss Marter here has a case of the Black Cat Flu, but she should be right as rain in no time at all. She'll need a fever-reducing potion and to drink plenty of water. Oh, and some nourishing broth. Do you think you could grab those for us?

Hermione nodded and went to the closet where the potions were held. Thanks to Madam Pompfrey's impeccable filing system, she found the potion under 'F' in no time. But would the broth be under 'N' for nourishing or 'B' for broth? Or would it be filed with potions at all? She found it in the Bs. Apparently, the mediwitch used descriptive words for organizing potions and compound-type for nonmagical items. Hermione thought she might be in love.

She quickly returned to Genevieve's bedside and, at Madam Pompfrey's affirmation, administered the potion. The girl was strong enough to drink the broth herself so Hermione fetched a washcloth and a bowl of water and wiped the young girl's face and arms. Caring for patients was more than just giving them medicine, after all. To her surprise, Madam Pompfrey said something along the same lines when Hermione was through and Genevieve had fallen asleep.

"You've quite the natural gift for this, dear. Most don't understand the point of such seemingly frivolous gestures."

"Well, thank you, but I just try to think of how my Mum treated me when I was sick as a little girl, and how badly I just wanted comfort. That's all." Hermione told her, somewhat flustered.

"Exactly. Well, there's nothing pressing for you today but be patient, you'll get some real experience in no time. Would you like to brew me a new supply of calming draught?"

Hermione sighed and agreed.

…

After dinner, Hermione made some excuse to Parvati about going to study in the library, at which Parvati rolled her eyes and told Hermione she'd see her later. Hermione didn't feel good about lying to her friend about where she was going, but she wanted to have this secret to herself for now. For most of her life, she'd been stuck getting Ron, Harry, and herself out of messes or sneaking about with them. She just wanted something of her own for a little while.

Her plan was to go to the lowest level of Hogwarts she knew of – the dungeons. Once there… well, Hermione didn't know, but she was confident she'd figure it out.

In her excitement, Hermione rushed down the staircase to the ground floor of Hogwarts, not looking where she was going. Rounding the corner, she collided with a hard body. Unlike the bookstore scene though, this body caught her and kept her from rolling arse over teakettle.

"Oh – damn! Sorry. Er, are you okay – Hermione?" The oldest Weasley brother had begun his statement apologetically but ended now on an amused note. "I suppose my question still stands. Are you alright?" Bill gave her a full grin that creased the corners of his eyes.

"Yes, thank you. I'm just fine." Hermione replied, mildly embarrassed. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I need to watch where I'm going."

Bill made a dismissive motion with his hand, "No harm done. How have you been? It's been a while." It had been a while, indeed. She hadn't seen Bill since the few days after the final battle, as he had been quite occupied with the dark objects discovered after the death eater's homes had been raided.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I've been better," Hermione stated, wondering why she was being so open with the Weasley brother with which she was least familiar, "But every day is easier." Perhaps she was being so open because she knew that he himself was dealing with a more recent loss on top of everything else. "What about you?"

Bill concealed his surprise at her candidness, though he shouldn't have been surprised at all. Hermione had never been one to mince words. And war sometimes made people less willing to hide their true feelings. That, he knew firsthand from Fleur. He quirked one corner of his mouth before replying softly, "The very same as you, it would seem." She smiled at him sympathetically.

Suddenly, he straightened up and drew in a breath. "Wherever you were going when I so rudely interrupted you, you'd better be off to! You seemed to be in a hurry, so I won't keep you any longer." Bill stepped sideways and threw out his arms dramatically in the direction from which he had come.

Hermione laughed. "It was nice to run into you, Bill. I'll be seeing you." She resumed her steps down to the depths of the castle, but cast a glance back over her shoulder at the redheaded wizard, surprised to see him staring after her… but not quite at her face. He jerked his eyes up to hers and grinned jauntily before walking away. Hermione turned back around and did the same. _I've_ really _got to stop running into attractive men_ , she thought.

As excited as she was, Hermione felt a curious sense of unease as she reached the dimly lit lower levels. Perhaps it was because she expected Professor Snape to come billowing around the corner, looking murderous. She passed by the door to his office and willed away a shiver. Logically, she knew it was Slughorn's now, but after six years she couldn't switch over the occupant in her mind.

"Lumos!" Her wand illuminated the hallway and she began her search by closely examining the walls, hoping she might discover a long-forgotten door of sorts. It was quite spooky down here. The circle of light her spell provided didn't cover nearly as much ground as she wanted. She wished the book had given some indication of where the connection between the original quarters and the rest of the castle might lie, but it hadn't been much help on that. All Hermione knew was that the connection did exist, and she aimed to find it.

Unfortunately, the hallways yielded nothing she could see. She huffed a breath that sent strands of her wild hair flying. She moved onto the rooms lining the halls. Though she examined every corner and inspected every anomaly she could find in the rough stone, she found nothing to suggest any sort of passage to a lower, as yet unknown, level.

"I've been down here for nearly three hours searching these bloody dungeons for something that might not even exist," Hermione let out a frustrated shriek, "There's probably nothing to find." She slid down the wall of the storeroom she was in and tried to calm down. She was being silly. She had let her excitement get away from her and was once again disappointed. "Just let me find something. Please." She said softly, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

Abruptly, she shifted backward, and not of her own accord. She scrambled to her feet and turned around, wand at the ready. What had happened? The wall looked the same as it had moments ago. But… there! She could barely see a fissure that ran from the floor to the ceiling.

Hermione reached out a trembling hand and pushed. The wall moved! She pushed it all the way open and gasped as a cool breeze blew out of the opening, gently blowing her hair and robes back behind her. Only blackness greeted her beyond the entrance, as though the dark swallowed up any light her wand provided.

 _Are you a Gryffindor or aren't you?_ She steeled herself and stepped forward.


	4. Friends in High Places

Chapter Four - Friends in High Places

A/N: Thanks to all you guys who have read my lil old story! If you have any suggestions or anything you'd like me to add in, just leave me a review :) For the sake of my story, I'm pretending we don't know what Rowena or Helga look like.

…

Hermione walked through the doorway she'd unearthed. It occurred to her belatedly that this might not even be the portion of the castle she had been searching for, but she was already invested now. Stone steps spiraled into the darkness and, after a split second of debate, she followed them. It was clear no one had come this way in a long time; her steps seemed to sink down into the layer of dust that had collected on the steps. Hermione pushed away from the feeling of claustrophobia that threatened to overwhelm her as she descended in the dark and windowless space.

At the bottom of the stairwell, there was a metal door. She placed her free hand on the cold metal and pushed. When the door didn't budge, she leaned her shoulder into it and was rewarded for her efforts by the loud groaning of the door as it swung open. Before her was a hallway that extended to her left and right. On either side of her, she noticed the same receptacles for fire that were outside of the Great Hall and she set both alight. Now she could see much better. Though the hall looked like much the rest of the school, the ceilings were much lower than the high ceilings that most of the castle boasted. She speculated this had been a purposeful decision by the founders as they knew this level would likely hold many more on top of it.

Using her wand to light the way, Hermione explored the passage. It was about the same size as the dungeons above it. She passed doorways that led to empty classrooms, but she ignored them for the time being, as they were of lesser importance to her than the potential library or founder's studies.

And suddenly there was something – right in front of her. A massive painting framed in gold hung on the wall. It was so caked with dust she couldn't see the subject, nor tell if it was moving. Did portraits this old even move? Wait, of course they did. If they didn't, there's no way there would be a portrait of Circe herself in the castle. Hermione shook her absently to get back to the task at hand and cast a _Scourgify_ charm.

When the dust cleared, she gasped, her widening. The subject was a beautifully elegant woman. She had long, dark, curled hair that rested over one shoulder. Her pale skin made her hair stand out all the more, and brown eyes filled with intelligence stared out at Hermione. Upon her head rested the very diadem that she had helped destroy last year. Before even taking in the blue velvet dress embroidered with gold, she knew who the woman was. Rowena Ravenclaw. The founder wasn't smiling, exactly, but nor was she frowning. Instead, her eyes were narrowed slightly at Hermione as though she was examining her with the same scrutiny with which Hermione was observing the portrait. Rowena looked like a woman who had seen too much in life to accept things as they appeared. The thought crossed Hermione's mind that she must often look out at the world like this, too.

A throaty feminine voice from the painting first broke the silence, "It has been quite a while since I have had the pleasure of receiving any visitors down here." Her tone was completely neutral, giving nothing away about her thoughts on the matter.

"Er – I'm sure… Madam Rowena. My name is Hermione, Hermione Granger. I found a dusty old book in a forgotten corner of the library that mentioned this level beneath the castle and I decided to explore it. I'm sorry for bothering you," Hermione gushed quickly as an explanation, though no question had been asked.

"That is quite all right, child. You must be special indeed for Hogwarts to have let you venture down here." Now, Rowena's full lips turned upward into a smile, "Would I be correct in presuming you belong to my house, inquisitive one?"

Hermione filed that bit about Hogwarts away for later. "Actually, I was sorted into Gryffindor. Though the hat did consider placing me in Ravenclaw." Though she was eighteen years old, Hermione ignored being called a child. She supposed to a thousand-year-old woman in a painting she might seem to be a child.

"That may well be true, but as I often told Godric, bravery is a choice, but curiosity and the seeking of knowledge are traits one rarely has control over. You may have chosen to be in his house, but you have the mind to be of mine, and I will consider you as such."

Hermione blinked, stunned, and hesitantly responded, "Thank you - so very much, Madame Rowena. It's an honor, truly."

Rowena dismissed her thanks with a wave of her hand and leaned forward with a thoughtful look on her face. "What exactly do you hope to find down here amongst the dust?"

"Well, I suppose the library. And your study, as well as the other founders' studies. And whatever else I might happen to come across."

Rowena leaned back, nodding. "Very well, I will leave you to your search. But - if I may make a suggestion – begin with Slytherin's study. It's all the way down the hallway and to the left. You may well find more curiosities there."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she responded, "Alright, thank you. I will."

With that, Rowena returned to immobility, her job done. Hermione continued down the hall to find the study she'd spoken of. Unsurprisingly it was just where the woman said it would be, and a wrought-iron door was the entryway. Hermione had to put her back into it to open the door, but she got it done. There were torches lining the walls beside the door that she set alight with a swish of her wand. She got her first good look at Salazar Slytherin's personal quarters.

 _Well, other personal quarters_ , she mentally added, having to account for the chamber of secrets. To her surprise, it looked much like a cave. In fact, as she took a closer look at the black ceiling made of jagged rock, she decided it was a cave. This must be the part of the castle built into the rocks from the black lake. Of all the founders, naturally, Slytherin's personal office would be an actual cavern underneath the lake. It made perfect sense from what she knew of him.

The room was not very wide but made up for that with its length. Hermione squinted her eyes to see the back wall in the dim lighting. The study held a large desk, a few bookshelves filled with artifacts, a fainting couch, and what appeared to be a white bust of Slytherin himself nestled into an alcove. She rolled her eyes at the founder's conceit. He had lavish taste, though - for the room was luxurious, from the dangling chandelier to the intricately crafted woodwork on the shelves.

Hermione moved farther into the room. As she did, she noted a strange gleam on the rock at the back of the cavern. She moved her wand closer and saw that the gleam was a liquid that seemed to be oozing out of the rock itself. Tentatively, she touched it with her hand and rubbed it between two fingers. It almost looked like... blood? But why would the castle rocks be bleeding? Ever the academic, Hermione conjured a small vial and scooped up some of the unknown substance, corking it and wiping off her hands on her robe. That was enough exploring for today, she decided, time for some research. Hermione traced her steps back up to the dungeons, headed to grab her things and head straight to the library.

…

Learning about the mystery blood would have to wait, unfortunately. No sooner had Hermione started walking into the common room than Ginny burst into her field of vision grinning like a madwoman.

"Hermione! There you are! Where've you been? It's nearly midnight." Ginny apparently didn't want an answer, because she surged forward, grabbing Hermione's wrists and dragging her up to Ginny's room.

"Oh, have you finally decided to share who the mystery man is? Did your date go well, then?" Hermione asked her, laughing. They both sat down on Ginny's bed, and Ginny scooted up against the headboard, hugging her knees.

"Yes, but I want you to promise me that you won't judge me when I tell you who it was with."

Hermione found that a bit strange. Ginny was incredibly independent and strong-willed. She typically didn't care much for what other people thought. She was the one who had ended her and Harry's relationship, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione looked at her seriously and said, "Gin, I promise. If this person makes you happy, I'll be happy for you. We all deserve some happiness after the past year."

"Thank you, that means a lot, especially from you." Ginny looked at the floor and scrunched her eyes closed, "Er, well, it's Blaise Zabini."

Oh. That was certainly shocking. Hermione didn't know Blaise personally, as he had previously been very vocal about his anti-muggleborn sentiments. Then again, so had Draco, and there was something different about him now, too. Blaise was a notorious womanizer, but she didn't think Ginny would be falling into his trap any time soon. The redhead was stunning in her own right, too. Ginny opened one eye to peer up at her when her confession was met with silence. "Well! Say something, would you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow and gave Ginny a pointed look, "He certainly isn't hard to look at, is he?" Blaise took after his notoriously good-looking mother, and his slanted eyes made him look like he had something to hide – which most girls were drawn to.

Ginny gave a sigh of relief. "No! He's bloody gorgeous. The dark skin, those eyes! But really the date went well. We went to a pub in Hogsmeade and actually talked a lot. He's not as quiet when you get him alone. I even asked him about that blood traitor nonsense. You remember, don't you? When Harry told us about their conversation on the train?"

"What! Yes, I remember. You actually asked him about that?"

Ginny shrugged. "I couldn't very well go on a second date with someone who felt that way about me, could I? I just got it over with. He told me he was sorry he'd said that and his feelings had changed about all that mess since the war. It's like that phrase – the one you say all the time. What is it? War –"

"- changes people." Hermione finished for her, laughing at Ginny's straight-backed impression of her. "Well, I'm surprised to be quite honest but I'm happy for you. Will you go out with him again?"

"I'm planning on it, but we'll see what he wants to do." Ginny shrugged. "I'm just happy boys are asking me out again. After I broke up with Harry I figure no bloke thought he could measure up so it's been ages since anyone even flirted with me, let alone asked me on a date. Is it the same with you, since you ended things with Ron?"

Hermione had always found Ginny's confidence in her appeal hilarious, and often wish she shared it. "Not quite. I mean, no one's asked me out, but they weren't exactly lining up before Ron, either. The last time anyone showed interest in me was fourth year, and that was Victor."

"The last time anyone up to your standards held interest in you, you mean." Ginny corrected her with a stern look on her face. "You've been turning heads since that fourth year, it's just that no one tickled your fancy. Or your other parts, I guess." Ginny held up her hands to block the pillow Hermione had just chucked at her and laughed.

"Okay, fine! But it's not a bad thing to have standards, is it? Now, if you're done abusing the name of my love life, I was on my way to the library before you so rudely interrupted me, _Ginevra_." She got up and made to leave.

Ginny's laughter cut off abruptly at Hermione's use of her full name. "There's no need for name-calling, Hermione _Jean_. I just want you to be happy!"

Hermione smiled at her over her shoulder as she walked out of the dormitory. "I know, bye!"

…

Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor amidst piles of books and parchment in the library, scribbling down any bits of information she could find about Hogwarts. The Raising of Hogwarts hadn't been much help at all, so she was reading about foundation and construction magic. Focused as she was, she didn't notice someone walking toward her until shiny black shoes entered her vision. _Expensive_ -looking shoes. Steeling herself, she followed the shoes up to the pale face with raised eyebrows leaning over her.

"Do books make you that weak in the knees, Granger, or is this just a fun habit of yours?" Draco Malfoy asked her.

She snorted. "Leave me alone, I'm busy."

"Yes, I can see that. But -" he slid down the bookshelf across from her and sat on the floor, "- I'm currently bored. What are you busy doing? You can't be this overwhelmed with classes yet. Even you."

She paused with her mouth open, about to deliver a scathing reply, and chose honesty instead. "Do you know anything that would cause a building to bleed?"

Malfoy's face went through an entertaining array of expressions before he settled on confusion, which morphed into a condescending look, as though he thought Hermione was off her rocker. He plucked up one of her pieces of paper. She lunged to grab it but he jerked it out of her reach, fending her off with one arm as he read with the other.

"Dungeons of Hogwarts? Slytherin's study?" He leveled the full power of his stare at her, as though he could make Hermione Granger _do_ anything. "You'd better start talking, witch."

Hermione sighed. _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , she supposed. She silently handed him the vial full of the blood – for that's what she'd decided it was – from the sub-levels. He looked at her warily as he accepted it and tipped the bottle over to watch it ooze from one side to the other. While he examined it she gave him a brief summary of her night.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" She scrambled for him yet again as he uncorked the bottle and sniffed it, ignoring her. She hoped this didn't become a habit.

"I agree. It's blood." He handed the vial back. "So, little Miss Mu –" at this, she shot a look at him, and he rolled his eyes, "-ggleborn has been exploring the castle. How did you find it? The sub-dungeons, I mean."

Hermione sat back on her heels, stumped. How had she found it? The truth was, she hadn't, not really. "I guess, I don't really know. The last thing that happened before the wall moved was I... well. I sort of asked the castle for help."

The wizard pressed his lips together, "Annnnd solving how bonkers you are is not what I'm interested in, so we're ignoring that. Thanks for the entertainment." With that, he stood up, adjusted his collar, and strode off, leaving her to wonder what in seven hells had just happened.

About an hour later, he was back, pacing in front of her.

She glanced up at him. "Oh, good, back to annoy me again?"

"I think Hogwarts was founded using blood magic. Have you found that anywhere?"

"According to a book I found, the founders spilled blood before the actual construction began to capitalize on the magic already in the area's ley lines. But, blood magic? That's dark. There's no way that's what they used."

Malfoy stopped pacing. "And what makes it dark?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Don't play dumb, we're both too clever for that. What makes blood magic dark? Did anyone or anything die? Did it hurt anyone irrevocably?

Scoffing, she replied, "Not that I know of. But anything tied to the lifeblood of any creature can't be good. You can control others using that. You can steal their magic, or make them sick, or any number of things."

"But they gave it up willingly. No one forced them into it. And it's protected generation after generation of wizards, even through-" He cut off. "It's protected those who live here for over a thousand years."

Hermione didn't consider herself narrow-minded by any means, but this coming from Draco Malfoy was certainly a shock to her system. "So let's say you're right. What now? What does it mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Now, that, Granger, I'm not sure of. But I am sure we'll figure it out.'

"Us? Excuse me? This is my research and my doing. I never invited you."

He threw his head back laughing. "Of course you didn't. I'm inviting myself. Let me know the next time you go down there. I want to come." He began walking away.

"And why would I want you to come, Malfoy?" She called after him, ignoring Madam Pince's sharp glare.

"You don't, Granger. But you'll come to get me just the same."


	5. We Did the Monster Mash

Chapter Five – We Did the Monster Mash

Hermione ran down the hallway clutching her book bag as she scurried around a corner. She slowed to a brisk walk when she noticed Professor McGonagall in a doorway and sent the matron a thin-lipped smile. She'd stayed up late last night pouring over books on blood magic, desperate to prove Draco Malfoy wrong. As a result, she had missed breakfast and was nearly late to Charms this morning. Old habits die hard, after all.

She slid into her seat next to Parvati just as Professor Flitwick stepped onto the tall stack of books he used as a platform. Parvati turned to her and said, "Hermione Granger? Late to class? Pinch me, I know I'm dreaming," she put a hand to her forehead and swooned.

" _Nearly_ late, Parv, but not quite." Hermione stuck her tongue out at her.

Parvati rolled her eyes and replied, "Semantics. So this weekend -"

"Miss Patil, if you don't mind, I'll begin now?" Professor Flitwick asked her with arms crossed. Parvati gave him an apologetic look and nodded. As soon as he began lecturing, she whipped out a piece of parchment, scribbled on it, and passed it to Hermione. Hermione narrowed her eyes at her friend, but took it.

' _Samhain Party Friday, 9pm, Room of Requirement. You're going.'_ Her eyes roamed over the note carefully, deciding. Parties weren't really her scene, or at least they hadn't been in years past. Then again, she'd been so busy preparing for Voldemort that she couldn't have been part of that scene if she'd tried. Perhaps she should branch out. She glanced over at Parvati, whose lower lip was currently pushed out so far it was in danger of falling off. Hermione grinned, nodded, and laughed to herself when Parvati immediately perked up and paid very close attention to the lecture from there on out, her mission accomplished.

…

Madam Pompfrey was busy as usual when Hermione arrived to the Hospital Wing, bustling about the room with barely a pause. Strangely, there never seemed to be enough work to do to justify the matron buzzing around as she did, at least to Hermione's eyes. Madam Pompfrey called Hermione over to the bedside of a young girl and explained her condition.

Her name was Veronica Selwyn and she was a fifth-year Slytherin. Apparently, before the girl's Voldemort-loving father had been carted away over the summer, he had made his daughter help him sort out some dark objects in their home, and she accidentally shattered one with her bare hand. She hadn't had anything happen then so she assumed she was in the clear. The magic had some kind of delayed reaction in her body, and she now presented with cyclic fever and shallow breathing. Hermione could see dark veins branching like spider webs just underneath the surface of her pale skin. Madam Pomfrey said Veronica had known the objects were dark, but as her father was already going to Azkaban, she was afraid the discovery of the artefacts would warrant the Dementor's kiss. The things we did for those we loved.

"Alright. Have you ever dealt with a case of dark magic?" asked Madam Pompfrey.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. "I've been split open by a curse, if that's what you mean."

Madam Pompfrey looked as if it required all her strength not to roll her eyes. "Of course you have. I meant from the healing side of things. If I recall correctly, and I usually do, you were given ten potions a day for two weeks. Can you tell me any of them?"

"You applied dittany when I first got here and the days after, Blood-Replenishing potion, Pepper-Up, Invigoration drought, Vitamix, Finis Noctis, Wiggenweld, Antidote to both Common and Uncommon poisons, Aloe Veris… er, I can't remember the final one."

"That's quite alright, dear. The remainder was a personal invention of Professor Snape called the Draught of Gold. It was the same one used on Headmaster Dumbledore when he wore that cursed ring. It's used to contain and expel dark magic. I doubt we told you what it was, as Severus was quiet about his work."

 _God forbid Professor Snape ever be known for doing anything nice_ , Hermione thought.

"Now, we're going to take a very similar approach with Miss Selwyn, but it will be less strenuous because it's such a small wound and its limited to just her hand and wrist. I'll make small incisions in the flesh to remove the shards, as the potions won't be able to heal her fully until all the pieces are out, and some of the skin has grown over the injury. I want you to comfort her during this but try to pay close attention."

Hermione gave the girl a pain potion and took a seat by the bed as Madam Pompfrey began with the first slice and plucked out the first shard.

Veronica yelled and tried to sit straight up off the bed, but Hermione leapt up next to her and held down her arms. She knew from personal experience that some things couldn't be dulled with a potion.

"Shh, shh, I know it hurts, you're going to be alright. She's got to do it. You can do this, I know you can." Hermione stroked her hair and tried to comfort her, but she wasn't sure how much good she was doing. "You're in Slytherin, right?" Veronica nodded, and Hermione continued, "And your younger sister is in the same house, right?"

Again, Veronica nodded. This time she said, "She just got here, she's a first year."

Hermione smiled brightly. "How is she getting on? Does she like it here? Do you get to see her much?" She continued to talk Veronica through it, asking her anything under the sun to keep her mind off what the MediWitch was doing to her hand. At long last, it was finished, and Veronica fell headlong into a deep sleep.

"Miss Granger, would you like to bandage her up?"

Hermione agreed and Madam Pompfrey watched as she wrapped up the girl's hand gently with gauze and dittany. With a jerk of her head, Madam Pompfrey indicated that Hermione should follow her to the office.

They sat down, and the matron looked at her appraisingly.

"I knew you'd had experience, more than anyone your age ought to, but you still impressed me in there, Miss Granger."

"Well, thank you very much Madam Pompfrey, but why? I did nothing to heal her. Isn't that what I'm here to learn?"

"Not everything to learn comes from the books, my dear girl, and not all healing is physical. Comforting our patients is often just as important as the actual act of healing the body. You may not agree with how I have handled the Hospital Wing over the years, but I assure you everyone that comes in here knows that they will leave as well and whole as I can get them. Now, run along and I'll see you next time."

…

Parvati dragged her into going shopping for a Halloween – or Samhain, as the purebloods called it - outfit with her and Ginny on Friday before the party, and Hermione was only a barely willing participant. As far are she was concerned, the goddess Athena was a perfectly original costume, but Parv insisted Hermione put more effort into it than a bed sheet toga.

So here she stood in the dressing room, arms piled high with costumes to try.

"Do the pirate one first!" Parvati yelled at her from the next room over.

She pulled on some contraption with billowing sleeves that appeared to be missing the center panel of the blouse. Nope. Sexy, she could go for. Two-sickle prostitute? Not so much. She tried an angel, his devil counterpart, a bumblebee, and a snowy owl that made her momentarily sad when she thought of Hedwig. The last one was a belly dancing outfit, complete with a beaded brassiere and dangling chains on the hips. It displayed her small chest and flat tummy nicely without any danger of things falling out of place.

"Alright Parv, I've found the one. Ginny, you come look too." She stepped out of the dressing room and spun around, making the skirt billow and the panels fly out.

Parvati was impressed, to say the least. "Bloody hell Hermione. You'll drop all the jaws in the place. And where did those tits come from?"

"Parvati!" Ginny hissed at her. "Please at least act like you have some sense of decorum in public, even if we know the truth." She waggled her eyebrows at Hermione. "She may have no class, but she is right. You look really good."

"First of all, I have class, I simply choose not to employ it. Secondly, I'll show you both the very _definition_ of class tonight. Just wait until you see my costume." Parvati retorted.

She refused to show it to them despite further prodding, but Ginny chose a boxer girl getup, complete with a silky Slytherin-green robe and accents.

"Ginny, I didn't realize you'd switched houses," Hermione said slyly. "Whose eye are you trying to catch?"

Ginny huffed. "You know very well who! And with enough luck, I'll catch the whole man, and not just his eyes."

Tonight was sure to be interesting.

…

The girls stalked down the hallway together on the way to the party, ignoring the chill in favor of looking good. Parvati insisted on wearing a cloak to cover her outfit until they got in, as to 'not ruin the surprise.' Hermione had rolled her eyes at how dramatic her friend could be sometimes, but it usually ending up being entertaining, so she held her tongue. Parv paced in front of the wall to summon up the entrance and they knocked.

A small door about eye level opened, reminding Hermione vaguely of The Princess Bride. A set of eyes peered out. "Who's there?" asked a voice she recognized as belonging to Dean Thomas.

"Uh, don't you think that's a bit obvious, Dean?" replied Ginny.

"It is literally the day for disguises, Ginny, but I can tell that it's definitely you. Come on." The door heaved open and they stepped into the Room of Requirement and through a cloak of midnight black.

After Hermione's eyes adjusted to the dim room, she gaped. The Room was full-blown Addams family. Spiderwebs covered the arched ceiling, crawling with what appeared to be live spiders. _Good thing Ron isn't here,_ she thought, _he'd have kittens_. Black drapery hung from wall to wall, hanging just above their heads. There was a group of dancing skeletons in the corner playing catch with a pumpkin, and someone had charmed a Victrola to play music.

She heard a gasp from behind her and whirled around to see that Parvati had finally revealed her costume, and it was glorious. She wore a traditional sari that had such an array of reds and golds it seemed the sun itself was trapped in its folds. Her stomach showed, and henna covered her bare arms and feet.

"Wow. Parv. You look absolutely beautiful." Ginny said to her.

"Thank you, thank you," Parvati said with a shimmy, "It was my grandmother's. I figured if anyone has the right to wear a sari on Halloween, it's me. Now, let's go get some punch. I need alcohol." And so she dragged them both away.

Hermione drank and danced the night away. She found she quite enjoyed acting like a fool dancing with Ginny, and that Parv could probably drink a grown man under the table. Luna taught her the dance of the humming dirkplumes – whatever that was. As far as she could tell, it involved standing on one's tiptoes and grasping towards the ceiling, whilst standing back to back.

She took a breather and observed from the corner for a while. It was good to see the houses getting along together instead of arguing for once. Ginny was currently perched on the arm of a couch and flirting with Blaise. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if that turned into snogging soon. By the way he was eyeing her right back, it appeared her costume choice had worked.

The alcohol had made her a bit fuzzy, but she thought she could handle a bit without things getting out of hand, so she walked over to get another drink from a side table. While pouring the drink, she knocked it onto the floor. Cursing her clumsiness, she cleaned up the spill with a flick of her wand and bent over to pick up the cup.

"And just where have you come from, love?" said a honeyed voice behind, dripping with confidence. Hermione froze in place, shocked. "Have we met?"

She turned around to a stunned Draco Malfoy and replied, "Only a few times."

Draco did a charming impression of a fish out of water. "What the… Granger? I didn't realize..."

"Didn't realize what, Malfoy? That I was female? I doubt you're familiar with the breed, so I'll chalk it up to an honest mistake." She smiled sweetly at him with her hand over her heart. And apparently also her cleavage, which his gaze settled on before jerking back up to her eyes.

"I'm more than _familiar_ with the female anatomy, Granger, and I can assure you I'd know it _if_ I saw it," was his reply, smirking meanly.

"Calling me mannish? Won't change the fact that you came over because you spotted my arse and didn't know it was me. And that you've examined my chest at least twice since we've been standing here."

He held up a hand. "The only reason I didn't realize it was you is that I couldn't see that bird's nest you call hair. Don't flatter yourself, I only came to see if a woman needed help. Some of us were raised with manners."

She laughed so hard she almost doubled over. When she came back to herself she said, "You? Having manners? Thanks for the laugh." She grabbed her newly made drink and made to leave, then stopped and turned back to him. She stood on her toes as close as she could get without touching him and put her lips next to his ear. "You can insult me all you like, but you and I know the truth. The great Draco Malfoy willingly checked out a filthy muggleborn. And liked what he saw." With that, she withdrew and walked away.

A few minutes later she realized what she'd said. Maybe the alcohol had affected her more than she realized? She downed her drink in a few gulps and went back to dancing, content to ignore the conversation for now.

An hour or so later, Hermione was drunk and ready for bed. Ginny and Blaise were intertwined together so tightly on the couch that she wasn't sure where one began and the other stopped. Parvati had been flirting with Seamus for the past thirty minutes and she didn't want to interrupt either of her friends, so she quietly slipped out into the hallway and made her way back to the dormitory alone.

It didn't even cross her mind that it was well beyond curfew. She saw a light coming around a corner, and she came face to face with Professor Weasley.

"Oh, god, that's so bright, put it away." She held her hands in front of her face to shield her eyes.

"Er, Hermione? What are you doing out this late? And what are you wearing? And –" he stepped closer, inhaled, and laughed, "-been drinking, have we?" He didn't put out the light, but he did pull it back.

"Bill? What are you doing out? Why are you here?"

"I'm doing my rounds. It's Friday night and past curfew."

"Bill! Bill. Don't report me, please! I don't want to get in trouble and I'm dressed up for Halloween and now I feel ridiculous and I'm cold, tired and now I'm in trouble -" her voice was rapidly rising in pitch and Bill's eyebrows were creeping towards his hairline as she rambled on.

"Whoa! Whoa, calm down." He grabbed one of her wildly gesticulating hands in his. "Hermione, I'm not going to report you. You're Hermione." Bill appeared to find the whole ordeal wildly entertaining.

"No! I don't you to give me any special treatment, anyone else would get in trouble so I should too. It's not funny!" She stomped her foot and crossed her arms.

"Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But I thought you didn't want to get in trouble?" The oldest Weasley brother grinned at her.

"Well, I don't, I didn't, but I should, but I really don't want to."

"Okay, how about this. You come by my class on Monday for a dueling demonstration and I'll let you go. I'll even lend you my cloak." He wrapped his outer robe around her and she was enveloped in glorious warmth.

She thought about it for a moment. "That'll work. Thank you so so so much. I love you. You're so nice. And you smell so good."

"Well, thanks," he said, laughing, "Now let me walk you back to the Common Room so you can get to bed."

She fell into bed without even changing her costume.


	6. Frenemies?

Frenemies?

...

The next morning, when she pried her eyes open, Hermione wondered if it was possible to actually die from a hangover. She wanted nothing more than to continue lying behind those burgundy curtains that shut out the sun so nicely, but bed wasn't going to do much for her headache or the cotton currently inhabiting her mouth.

She was brushing her teeth when she remembered the encounter with Charlie last night.

"Oh my god." She spit out the toothpaste and pointed at herself in the mirror. " _You_ are never drinking again. As though you needed any more people to think you a complete and utter kook." She drank a hangover potion that she stole from Parv's stash in the bathroom, downed a glass of water and went back to bed.

The second time Hermione opened her eyes she felt considerably better, and, not seeing her roommates anywhere, headed down to lunch alone. Parvati and Ginny were down there, looking like they'd been dragged three miles behind a hippogriff. Hangover potions didn't work miracles, it seemed.

"So ladies, what did we get up to last night after I left?" Hermione asked as she filled up her plate.

Ginny looked up at her, smirking as she chewed on a bit of chicken. "I can tell you one thing - my night ended better than Parv's here."

Parvati leaned over and thumped Ginny on the head with her spoon. "I can tell my story, thank you." She turned her gaze to Hermione, sighed, and mumbled something that sounded like, "Seamus -sick - me."

Hermione leaned in closer, sharing a grin with Ginny. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said, Seamus got sick all over me. So I didn't get any, unlike Miss Slytherin's Mistress over here!" Parvati gestured to Ginny, who was laughing uproariously. "It nearly ruined my outfit. And my grandmother gave me that sari!"

"I didn't 'get any' either, as you so eloquently put it, nor was I trying to. I just had a good snog! And let me tell you, Zabini is a bloody good kisser." Ginny replied.

"That's okay, Parv. I didn't even get that. I'm sure you'll have other chances to have a go at Seamus," was Hermione's contribution.

"Nope, I'm not trying again. Not ever. Once you've had a boy sick all over your lap, all the funny business is over."

The girls laughed together, and Hermione thought it might be a good time to share her personal embarrassment of the night. "I - Er - ran into Bill Weasley last night. Quite literally, actually."

Parvati immediately perked up. "Did you have a go at it in the broom closet, by chance? Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm trying to live vicariously through you."

Ginny gagged and said, "First of all, ew. And secondly, ew. Thirdly, Hermione is hardly the type to jump in the sack with someone. And if she does with Bill, I'd like as few details as possible, thanks."

Rolling her eyes and giggling, Hermione replied, "We most certainly did not have a go in a closet, sorry to disappoint you. Honestly, don't you have any standards?"

Parvati stabbed an unsuspecting vegetable with her fork and used it to point at Hermione. "Well, since you asked. No, I don't." And shoved the food into her mouth.

"What _did_ happen was rather embarrassing though. I begged him not to give me detention - "

"As though he ever would!" interjected Ginny.

"- and he said that he'd let me off if I came by his class Monday for a defense demonstration. But I'm afraid I made quite a fool of myself in the process of talking to him. God, I acted like a blithering idiot."

Both girls reassured her that, if anything, Bill had found it hilarious and wouldn't hold it against her. She also told them about the Malfoy encounter, to which their responses were rather different than she'd expected.

"I mean obviously it was a shite thing to do to you," Parvati was saying, "You're a good looking gal, Hermione, and he noticed. He's probably just never thought of you that way before and it took him off guard, so he deflected back to his old self when he didn't know to react."

Both Ginny and Hermione stared at Parvati blankly for several seconds.

"What? Have I got food in my teeth?" She began vigorously scrubbing at her two front teeth.

Ginny was quick to respond, "Er, no. I think we're both just surprised you took such a… lenient view of him. I was going to say something similar, though. But this business with Zabini is probably addling my brain when it comes to Slytherins."

"Is he addling your other parts as well, then?" Parvati asked Ginny, and they moved on to other, less complex, subjects.

...

Hermione started on her way down the dungeons that evening, thinking about Malfoy's comment the other day about joining her the next time she went exploring. She certainly didn't want that git down here after the way he had acted at the party. And how would she even find him? Hermione knew she wasn't the prettiest girl in the world but she had looked good, even sexy in her costume. And then Malfoy acted like it was some sort of sin to find her attractive, instead of just owning up about checking her out. Men were a wholly different breed.

She reached the doorway to the room holding the passageway to down below and stopped, considering. That afternoon she had performed tests of all kinds on the substance in the vial, and from what she could tell, Malfoy _had_ been right that it was blood. And he had made the connection to blood magic being used to found the castle without half the knowledge Hermione had from the book. Maybe he could be useful if he could keep his trap shut. And that was a very big if.

Moments later, Hermione arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, feeling a bit stupid. She knew there was a password to get into the common room and she was reasonably certain she could guess it, but what would she do after? Yell Draco's name down the halls until he came out?

Then the ornate door swung open and out came Daphne Greengrass, saving her from more internal conflict.

"Hermione? What are you doing down here?" Daphne looked confused and Hermione didn't blame her.

"I suppose I need to speak to Malfoy. Do you know where I could find him?"

Daphne may have been surprised but she didn't show it. "Yes, he's just inside. I'll send him out." She disappeared back into the room. Mere seconds later, Malfoy popped out.

"Hello, Granger. What is it you want?" Did he look uncomfortable? She must have truly lost her mind if she was seeing things.

"We're going down to the dungeons. I'm still not sure why I'm here, but you better take the chance while I'm offering." She turned on her heel and began walking away.

He said from behind her, "Couldn't resist me, eh? Lead the way."

Abruptly she spun back around, pointing her finger at him. "I have some rules. Don't try anything funny. And if you could try to tone down the snark, I might not hex you."

He held up his hands in a placating gesture, but his face held a condescending smirk. She stood still, glaring at him. "Granger, would you calm down? I'm genuinely interested in what you've found."

They made their way down to the dungeons in silence. When they stood at the blank section of the wall in the classroom, Draco looked at her expectantly. "Is this the bit where you went all barmy and started talking to the walls?"

The wall suddenly rumbled back with a sound like a clap of thunder and Draco nearly lept out of his skin.

Without turning her head to look at him, Hermione said, "Guess the castle doesn't like you insulting me. You flinched."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"You're seeing things, Granger."

"Would this be the right time to call you a twitchy little ferret, Malfoy?"

"You know, I really thought you'd grow out of the insufferable thing. Let's crack on, then." He walked through the doorway, using his wand to light the way. She followed him and let him open the door at the bottom of the stairs. She walked out ahead of him and lit the fires along the walls.

"It's this way to the study." As they passed the portrait of Ravenclaw, Draco stopped in his tracks.

"Is that -"

"Yes." Hermione stopped as well a few steps ahead and observed the woman in the frame, who wasn't moving. "Guess she doesn't want to talk to you. We had quite the conversation last week."

Draco scoffed. "You spoke to Rowena Ravenclaw? No way."

"Sure did. And Slytherin's study is just down here if you'd like to join me." She kept walking down the hallway. Draco followed her, keeping his eyes on the painting until he couldn't crane his neck any farther. Hermione leaned against the doorway of the study and ushered Draco in ahead of her.

Draco's jaw popped open before he snapped it shut with an audible click. He walked around the room, exploring and occasionally making small sounds of surprise. He picked up a book from a shelf on the wall and looked through it for a moment. He nodded towards Hermione, "Are you going to hex me if I borrow a book from here?"

Hermione shook her head. "As long as you won't use it to hurt people." Draco rolled his eyes and continued looking around.

When he reached the back wall - still oozing - he finally addressed her."I can't believe you, of all people, found this. I mean seriously. Salazar Slytherin is probably rolling in his grave right now." This, especially coming from Draco Malfoy, was typically a statement that would've set her hair on fire. The way he said, however, actually held a modicum of respect, so she responded likewise.

"He is, I'm sure. And I can't believe it either. Do you still think it's blood magic?"

"After seeing it? Absolutely. Did you read on it or do you still think it's evil?" The word 'evil' was complete with air quotes and a sardonic expression. He wandered over to Slytherins' bust and began examining it.

"I never said it was evil." At this, he shot her a single raised eyebrow but remained silent. "But I did do some research. So it is blood-based. What does it mean? And how were you so certain about it?"

With his face turned away from her, he answered with a carefully neutral voice, "There's a lot in the Malfoy library that isn't exactly taught - or even welcome - at Hogwarts. My family quite excels in all things dark." He was quiet for a moment, observing the room. "I think it means there's something wrong with the castle." He sat down in the chair in front of the desk and started trying the drawers, and Hermione began examining what was on the top.

Or, at least, she tried. The minute she reached out and touched the desk a pulse of magic stung her and she jerked her hand away. She looked up at Draco, disturbed.

He smirked and said, "I was wondering if that might happen. Obviously, you can come in and explore unharmed, but touching is off limits."

"Why? Because I'm a bloody Muggleborn?" She clutched her hand, looking sharply at him.

Draco shrugged. "Could be. Could just be you're not Slytherin. Could be both. Either way, what a great idea it was to bring me along. I'm so glad I came up with it."

Ignoring the jibe, Hermione walked around while he investigated the desk's contents, being careful not to touch anything else.

"I'm not seeing a lot that's useful here. Apparently, the great founder of my house really liked to eat, because there's a lot of recipes in here. And maybe pages from his diary? Rubbish. For our cause, at least. Do you want to keep going down the hall?"

They left the study and went further into the unknown side by side, the most unlikely of companions. Some time past the study was another door across the hall, this one wooden and gilded in gold. After some pushing, they edged the door open. Draco stepped forward, but Hermione grabbed a fistful of fabric between his shoulder blades and heaved him behind her so she stepped into the room first.

He followed her inside with only a scoff and used his wand to levitate a sphere of light in the center of the room.

This study - for it could be nothing else, despite its homey appearance - practically oozed comfort. Squashy armchairs and pillows framed the edge of the room, and there was a stack of crocheted blankets on an ottoman that was taller than Hermione's head, covered in a thick layer of dust. There was even a fainting couch, for napping, Hermione guesses. On the wall across from the door, there was a desk with haphazard stacks of paper on it. Flowerpots of various sizes covered the room, though they held dirt and dust now.

"Given the obvious lack of knowledge of a basic color wheel and organizational skills, I'm going to say this is Hufflepuff's room." Draco drawled from his perch leaning against the wall.

Hermione looked back at him and rolled her eyes. "I think it's lovely. It's comfortable. This is probably what Hufflepuff's common room looks like. Very warm and welcoming - unlike some, which are cold and dreary." She gave him a pointed look.

"And how would you know what my common room looks like, Granger? You know what, we'll discuss this later. Let's look for information about the castle."

They began examining the room, with Hermione taking the desk this time. She flipped through the papers gently but could see nothing relevant. It was mostly basic spells, food menus, and doodles. She imagined herself quite liking Helga Hufflepuff if they'd had the chance to meet. She was interrupted from her pilfering by Draco calling her over to a tapestry on the wall which spelled out 'Just and Loyal' in flowing golden script.

He said, "I'll go first this time, thanks." And disappeared behind the cloth. She stood gaping for a half-second before following him.

With all the discoveries they were making she shouldn't have been surprised. After walking straight for a few strides, there they stood in Helga Hufflepuff's bedroom. It followed the theme of her study, with soft fabrics and cushions everywhere, and a bright yellow coverlet on the bed, under a thick layer of dust. On Helga's nightstand, there was a book, and Hermione picked it up to peruse it while Draco walked around, with a grimace on his face - at the plain accommodations, she assumed. The book appeared to be a journal of sorts.

"Come here. I think this might be something like what we're looking for." She called him over. As she flipped through the pages, she'd seen 'Hogwarts' written on a page and went to it. In her loopy handwriting, Helga talked about the everyday life of Hogwarts. At the end of the entry, however, she wrote, "It pleases me to know that the castle will stand for millennia with no change unless that most grave occurs."

Draco took it from her and peered at it. "'That which most grave occurs?' What does she mean by that?"

"I've no idea. That's all she wrote on it in that entry. I'm going to take it with me and see if there's anything else useful in it. Ready to call it a night? We've been down here for a while."

Draco said, "You are aware it's the weekend, right? As in, you don't have a bedtime?"

She ignored him and began walking back towards whence they came, her mind running on wheels thinking about what the journal entry could mean. He followed. They walked in silence for a time, until Draco's voice pierced the quiet, interrupting her thoughts.

"I don't care by the way."

She looked at him, confused. "What?"

"That you're muggleborn. I'm over that."

"Oh..okay?"

"That night at the party you mentioned it. Just wanted to clear things up."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. Malfoy kept walking and turned around when he realized she wasn't following.

"Are you... complimenting me in some strange way?"

Draco grimaced. "Merlin, no. I don't actually like you. Don't misunderstand. Just – er – it's not because your parents are, uh, muggles."

"Er… okay." When they were almost to his common room, she continued, "Do you have any inclination to share why you don't like me then, if it's not because of that?"

"I think that's enough for one night, Granger. Same time next week?" Before she could respond he'd ducked through the door to the common room and disappeared from sight.

She stared at the wall, dumbfounded and more confused than ever. Not for the first time that night, she wondered if anyone really knew Draco Malfoy - including himself.


End file.
